


Soldiers and Surgeons

by TruebornAlpha



Series: Ab Aeterno [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Curses, Detective Stiles, Doctor Scott, Friends to Lovers, Grad Student Scott, Historical Fantasy, Immortality, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Reincarnation, Serial Killer, Soldiers, World War II, soldier Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 22:18:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4852607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of World War II, Doctor Scott McCall uses his position as a military physician to study ancient and potentially magical items. If he could only figure out what Theo has been using them for, maybe he could figure out how to stop Theo and break the curse that keeps them bound to each other. Stiles has other ideas (mostly groping related).</p><p>In the present, the Blind Man serial killer is hot on their heels. Scott and Stiles steal one last moment before they face off with a monster.</p><p>A part of Ab Aeterno, a love story across lifetimes and throughout history between two idiot best friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soldiers and Surgeons

Doctor McCall sighed, leaning back in his chair until it creaked under his weight. He rubbed his tired eyes and tried to refocus them on the equipment spread across his desk. Little jars of powder with hand written labels, a microscope, a small scale, an ancient looking silver knife carved with scenes of sacrifice. A mix of cutting edge technology and the arcane. If only he could figure out how it worked.

The army medical facility gave him access to the best equipment available on the front lines, though that wasn’t saying much. Supplies were never as plentiful as he would have wished, but they were in the middle of a war after all. They all had to make do. Scott had turned a warrior’s hands to more academic pursuits over the last few decades, trying to recreate what he’d seen years ago in Theo’s horrific laboratory. The key to stopping him lay in understanding what his enemy had been trying to do.

He carefully measured a scoop of the silvery mountain ash on the table, poking at the line with a finger and jerking it away as electric sparks prickled along the skin. What was this stuff? What could Theo possibly have used it for?

Scott squawked in surprise as his chair was tipped backwards, a grinning smile pressing kisses to his lips before he could react.

“Working late again, Doc?”

“Hrm.” Scott righted himself, flustered as he cleared his throat. “You’ve need to be more careful, Private Stilinski. If someone saw you do this, you’d be kicked out on your ass.”

“No one’s up but you. Don’t you ever sleep?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Then maybe you just need someone to put you to bed.” The soldier swaggered into his line of sight, leaning over him with his hands on the chair’s arm rests. Scott had nowhere to turn but into him.

“That’s a tall order, private. I don’t think you’re up for it just yet.” But Scott’s fingers twisted into Stiles’s belt loops, belying any disapproval he could have hoped to convey. His expression softened as Stiles leaned into him, lips brushing against his cheek. “I’m working, Stiles. Come on…”

“The case again?” His question carried an unmistakable undertone of annoyance, even as warm breath tickled the sensitive skin by Scott’s ear. Scott sighed as long, insistent fingers tilted his chin up, but he didn’t pull away. It was their secret, as dangerous and as meaningful as the one they kept whenever they fell into bed. People like Stiles weren’t allowed to serve their country and the Allies still needed more bodies to throw into the war machine.

Stiles didn’t know all the details. A young man from a nice family with a wicked tongue and a sullen streak, he should have been attending college instead of signing up with the 104th and traveling halfway across the world to fight. Scott thought about it the moment he recognized him, thought about finding some way to get him back home. Falsifying medical records would be the least of his crimes. Stiles had the audacity to forbid him. Scott had the audacity to listen. Some days, he was so selfishly glad for it. Stiles was his confidante, the only one who knew anything of his mad experiments and Scott was selfishly greedy for his companionship. Catching his mother’s killer was a long and difficult task. Having someone who believed in him was a privilege Scott never truly thought he deserved. Normally, Stiles gave his fair share of encouragement, too. Not tonight though.

“This is the third time this week, Scott.” The soldier whispered heatedly, kissing his partner hard before Scott could think to do something foolish, like argue back. “I know. This is. Important.” Stiles gasped, open-mouthed and panting between kisses.  He licked his way into the other man’s mouth, sucking on the soft swell of his lip until all Scott could do was whimper, opening up so sweetly for him. “But you can’t keep this up. You’re gonna. Collapse. Need more’n one hour o’sleep a night  _fuck.”_

Scott pulled the young soldier closer, the chair creaking again with the added weight. He couldn’t stop his work now when he was so close to a breakthrough, but Stiles was insistent and distracting as he slid his knee between Scott’s thighs. Privacy was rare on the military base, it wasn’t easy to steal a few minutes alone and the cost of being caught were high. His hands slid beneath the other man’s uniform, squeezing Stiles’s ass as he hungrily devoured each whispered obscenity.

“I can’t.” He groaned, protesting but making no attempt to escape. “If you idiots would stop getting yourselves shot up all the time, I could get this work done sooner.” Scott scolded lightly. “You’re taking a real risk here, soldier. If anyone finds you out of your bunk at this hour, there’s going to be trouble. How many more toilets are you going to have to scrub?”

“Awww, Doc. You always say the sweetest threats.” Stiles ground his hips down to leave Scott gasping, enjoying the power of having this man entirely at his mercy. “Someone’s got to take care of you if you won’t take care of yourself. All this work is gonna kill you, you need to take a break.”

The doctor reluctantly pushed Stiles away, trying to recovery his will enough to breathe. Damn this boy, he was older than old, but Stiles could always make him flush like he was an awkward teenager again. “Just give me a couple more minutes to finish up, I can’t stop this now. Trust me, I want…oh god, I really want, but I’m so close.”

“You always say that.” Stiles huffed irritably at being denied. “We don’t know how much time we have, you can’t waste it all working. This is all going to be here when you get back. C’mon Scott, spend the night with me while we can.”

“Just one more…” Scott tried to protest, but it was already too late. He was being pulled to his feet, and prying, eager hands slid under his lab coat, roaming up and down the broad expanse of his chest as he shivered under Stiles’s determined exploration. 

“Taking you to bed.” The soldier decided. It wasn’t up for debate. That was okay. All Scott had was a tired, huffy little whine to argue his point. And a meep. A shy, shrill meep, when Stiles grabbed too much of his ass and refused to let go, and this was exactly why Stiles was on bathroom duty so often. Ever so reluctantly, Scott let himself be led, stopping only long enough to make sure all his samples were properly sealed, and with Stiles’s hands wandering down his pants that was a feat in and of itself. They snuck across the base, giggling the entire time, like they weren’t risking their careers by just being together. They fell into the doctors’ quarters, a tiny, Spartan room for two, but Dr. Coleman was working the night-shift, and until five in the morning, it was all theirs.

Stiles ran his fingers through his partner’s hair, making dark curls stand on end before his palms slid down to cup Scott’s cheeks, pulling him in for another hungry kiss. He unwrapped the doctor like a present, peeling off layer after layer of fabric, and batting Scott’s hands away whenever he tried to intervene. They fell over to the creaking of bed springs and muffled laughed, and as he peered down at his best friend, spread out before him like a feast, Stiles was proud of his persistence.

“Oh Scotty, you look good enough to eat,” Stiles slurred, licking his lips and wiggling his eyebrows enthusiastically. 

Scott smacked him in the gut, but he wouldn’t stop smiling. “You dragged me here. You’re getting a Hell of a lot more than a mouthful, Stiles.”

“That a promise?” Stiles dropped a smacking kiss on Scott’s cheek, petting his belly fondly. “Wait right here, gotta grab the stuff.”

There was a skip in his step as he raced off, too. Scott laughed, turning on his side as he listened to his partner dig through his trunk, but by the time Stiles reappeared, lube in tow, Scott was an obnoxiously snoring lump with his face squished into his pillow and Stiles’s heart tucked safely into his hand.

“You’re kidding.” Stiles sighed. He was so fond, it was disgusting. For a second, all he wanted to do was stare, but he wiggled his way into bed, pulling up their sheets and making himself comfortable. “I can’t believe I love you.”

He dropped kisses against Scott’s shoulder, teasing one dark curl between his fingers with a smile. The doctor was trying to find one killer in the middle of a war, it was brave and foolish to spread himself so thin. He couldn’t remember ever seeing his friend without the dark purple circles under his eyes even when Scott fought back the hopelessness of the front lines with an optimism Stiles could never understand, but valued more than anything else. He rolled the other man against his chest, tucking Scott against him to sleep.

They could never have a whole night together, it was too risky to be caught when the camp was awake, but they could have these few hours curled together like they were far away from this place and safe. When Scott woke up before reveille, he was alone and the bed was still warm, but there was a scrap of paper tucked under his pillow. He stretched his arms over his head until his back cracked before running his hands down his body where his best friend’s had rested only minutes before, smiling to himself as he read his note, a playfully lewd invitation for another rendezvous. Someday, this would all be over and they could end the curse, find a peaceful spot, and finally build a life.

It had been a long time since he’d been able to plan a real life, but he’d never been so close to stopping Theo and breaking the curse. There was an end out there, he could feel it. He just couldn’t let himself get distracted.

He dressed quickly just as the bugle sounded, stepping out of his room to watch sleepy young men start their day. There’d be more bloodshed, no doubt. Maybe one of the units would make it back to camp with casualties in tow. Or maybe, hopefully, it would be a quiet day where he could spend most of the time locked in his office after checking his patients. This war couldn’t go on forever, none of them did. It only just felt like the world was ending.

As conflict bled in from the French countryside, growing closer and closer to their compound, Scott’s days grew shorter, bogged down by an endless supply of work. With the world exploding on a global scale, he’d been drawn into battle, approached specifically for his qualifications in the medical field. Scott could have run. He’d been doing it for a long time, but his position as a military doctor gave him certain freedoms and advantages that he wouldn’t have anywhere else. A (relatively) steady supply of resources was one thing. Having his supervisors turn a blind eye to his experiments, was icing. He didn’t expect to find his best friend, but when had Stiles ever done what was expected of him?

There was just one, glaring downside. The British Infantry returned with almost more injured men than they could carry. Scott was on his feet well into the night, but there was only so much he could do. His powers had never been anything but selfish, and watching young men with their entire lives ahead of him fall to metal and flame just cemented it. He could handle the work load, if only because his curse gave him no other option. Scott had to be reminded to eat and drink, to rest, and when the choice between a few hours of sleep and more time with his research came up, sleep always came in second.

“What are you doing here?!”

Stiles entered his laboratory with a crash, slamming the door behind him so hard, Scott could feel his teeth rattling. The doctor inhaled sharply, as he spilled his sample over the work station, before rounding on the young man with bloodshot eyes and a bloodier temperament.

“For God’s sake, Stiles, keep your voice down.”

“It’s two in the morning. Do you know how long I was waiting for you?!”

“W-what?” He checked his watch, blinking blurrily at the numbers until they finally made sense. He’d completely lost track of time, when had it gotten so late? “I’m sorry I kept you up, but I was busy. You can’t just come bursting in here like a bull in a china shop, my work is incredibly delicate!” Stress and exhaustion roughened his tone, too tired to pull his punches as he looked at his ruined experiment. Hours of work gone in one selfish, childish outburst.

“You spend more time hunched over your stupid desk than actually living, Scott. You can’t just tell me you’re going to be somewhere and make me wait for you all night. What would have happened if someone saw me?”

“What I’m doing is important.”

“I’m important too!” Stiles snapped back, hands clenched tight by his side. “Your mom is dead and it’s horrible. I get that, I’m sorry that it happened, but nothing you’re doing is ever going to bring her back. You’re in the middle of a fucking war where we can all die at any minute and you’re obsessed with something you can’t even change.”

Scott stood up in a rage, too tired for niceties as his chair scrapping back against the floor. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He bit back through clenched teeth.

“Well, maybe I would if you actually fucking talked to me once in a while instead of always blowing me off. You want me or you don’t want me? You don’t get to make me keep running around and waiting for you to spare me a minute. Your mom’s gone, but I’m right here.”

“Stop acting like a whiny brat! This is way bigger than just you, people’s lives are at stake.” Scott turned back to the desk, carefully scooping up his ruined experiment. Damn, he was going to have to start over from the beginning again. This set him back days.

“Our lives are at stake! Yours and mine, and that matters, Scott!” Stiles was breathing hard, but when Scott turned away, his voice caught in his throat, dropping to a tired whisper. “We matter. I think we matter.”

“I’m doing this for us, Stiles.”  _You just can’t see it._ Scott’s shoulders tensed and jaw set, but he didn’t turn back. He didn’t see the way Stiles crumpled, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, more somber than he’d ever been when they were together.

“There isn’t an us. When you’re like this, Scott, it’s just you.”

It wasn’t fair, but in that moment, Stiles couldn’t find it in himself to care. Laced under every pointed word was something sweeter, weighed down and distorted by frustration and anger. It spoiled the concern that motivated him, left him aching. He didn’t want to see Scott like this, driving himself into the ground, but right now, Stiles couldn’t help him. He left the laboratory with no more fuss, quietly closing the door behind him. Scott fell asleep at his table. He was almost late for his shift the next morning.

Somehow he found the time to drag himself to the mess hall, if only to refill his coffee supply. He’d allow himself another pack of cigarettes maybe. It was a bad habit, but it was one that was everywhere. It was comforting when Stiles couldn’t be. There was something in the air that day, a new cut of tension that the doctor had to notice, even if his mind felt muggy, and his thoughts were running into each other. It was too quiet, and whenever someone laughed, it sounded too sharp.

“Someone preparing to ship out?” He asked the private handing out rations, taking an unfortunate guess. Scott had been around long enough to recognize the signs.

“Yeah, Doc. It’s the 104th’s last day at camp.”

Scott almost didn’t hear him. His blood was pounding to his ears, and his fingers had gone numb. He forgot his tray, and the young soldier’s confused face. He forgot everything as he took off running.

It took every ounce of self-control not to stand in the middle of the camp and scream Stiles’s name. Play it cool, he couldn’t draw so much attention to himself or people would start asking questions. Scott searched the barracks, the training yards, the latrines. Stiles was nowhere and the doctor had to take his roiling stomach back to his office, sitting down heavily with his head in his hands.

“I guess you’ve heard.”

Scott was on his feet in an instant, wrapping his arms around the soldier hard enough to crack ribs. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I tried, Scotty. I tried for a week.”

He could feel Stiles’s pulse beating hard, body flushed and warm against him. He smoothed his hands down the other man’s arms and swallowed hard, breath coming in shaky little gasps. He should have prepared for this, it was inevitable and he should have expected it, but Scott always thought they’d have more warning. There were ways to delay a deployment, if he had enough warning, he could have convinced Stiles not to go, he was sure of it. “You can’t. There’s not enough time! I needed more time than this.” Pulling away, he lurched towards his desk and started shoving jars into his medical bag. “I can still get you out.”

“Scott.”

“We’re going to have to go now, there’s not enough time to prepare, but I can get you out of here and back home. I’ll find a way, we’ll be okay.”

“ _Scott_.” Stiles took the doctor’s hands in his own, pulling him gently away from the desk. “I’m shipping out, it’s why I signed up. I’m not going to run away like some coward, I came out here to make a difference.”

“Why?” His finger dug hard into the soldier’s sides, curling into his uniform he like could force Stiles to listen if he just held on tight enough. “What good is a dead hero?”

“It’s war, they need my help!”

Scott laughed bitterly, shaking his partner hard. “There’s always a war, you idiot. There’s always going to be a war. There’s always some cruel, small-minded bully who thinks his way to immortality is by killing as many people as he can along the way and in the end, they’re always forgotten. You don’t need to throw your life away for someone else’s fight.” He reached up to cup his knight…his Stiles’s face with a sad smile. “We can run away.” The words were whispered, the same plea from a thousand years ago that he’d turned down and regretted every day since. “Don’t do this. Just run away with me. We can be out of the country before dawn if we leave now, take one of the jeeps and just keep going.”

“You know I can’t leave.”

There was heartbreak on Stiles’s face. It shone just as clearly as his stubborn pride. This wasn’t how he’d wanted this to happen. Ever since he found out, he’d fretted, quietly running through all the ways he could tell his partner, but fighting for Dr. McCall’s attention had always been an impossible battle. It was selfish, yes, but Stiles didn’t want to spend all his time competing with the dead. He’d come to make a difference. He believed in their cause, believed the Axis Powers were a threat that was going to destroy the world, believed he could make a difference, and every time Scott spoke to him like a jaded mentor instead of as his friend, it stung the worst sort of way. He never thought Scott would be capable of treason. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but sometimes, it felt like there was so much to the young doctor that he didn’t know about.

Scott just needed him to see. He was ready to run now. He’d spent centuries hating himself for his hesitation. He’d spend just as many if he lost his best friend again. “I can’t lose you, Stiles. I can’t. I’ll do something.”

Stiles kissed him, tender and sweet like he was worried his sharp edges could cut. They could push each other beyond their limits, always quick to tease and quicker still to compete, but Scott could make Stiles so gentle, like he never was with almost anyone else.

“Hey, you won’t even notice I’m gone. You’ll see.”

Scott’s expression shattered, and he curled into Stiles’s arms, his eyes squeezed shut. The decision to make wasn’t difficult as all. The difference of maybe forty more years was too much.

“I’ll stop hunting him. Is that what you need? I’ll stop, and we can go anywhere.”

“No, Scott…”

“None of this matters. I’ll give it up, just don’t go. You’re right, it’s not going to bring any of them back or change anything, I just can’t lose you again. Please, Stiles…” This curse was never going to change and he was just caught up inside of it again, wasting time on things that never mattered instead of holding on to each precious second with the people he loved. Theo was always going to be there, another war that never ended. He had chased this man for centuries, maybe it was time to walk away for a while and find something of his own for once. “I’ll leave all of it behind, just don’t ask me to watch you die.”

“I’m not going to die!” Stiles bristled a little before pulling Scott into a kiss. “I’ll be back in six weeks, a few months tops. You need to trust me.”

“I trust you, I don’t trust everyone else not to shoot you.” He slumped against his best friend, with a sigh. The creeping numbness crawled through his body until he couldn’t feel anything at all, cold and empty. “You’re not going to run.”

“I’m not running.”

“Then stay with me tonight?”

Stiles carded his hands through the doctor’s hair, kissing the passive man in his arms. “I can’t, we march first thing in the morning. Someone would notice I’m missing.”

Dark eyes slid closed and he bowed into his partner’s touch, too tired to fight anymore. There was no stopping this, he couldn’t ever break this god forsaken cycle. It had happened a hundred times before and it would happen a hundred more times. The only thing that he knew for certain was that he’d end up alone. He didn’t say another word, recognizing when he’d lost. Scott held onto his best friend for as long as he could before the soldier pulled away.

Stiles left the next morning and took Scott’s heart with him.

The doctor threw himself into his work, distracting himself with his patients and his experiments. He rarely left his office, falling asleep at his desk more often than not and trying to keep from counting the days. Everything else stopped, muted incomprehensible noise around him that couldn’t break through the fog. The blessed numbness kept away the pain. When the 104th dragged themselves back to camp three months later, he couldn’t feel a thing. Such young men and so few of them, the war had claimed its price. Stiles lay in an unmarked grave in some French field miles away with no way back home.

That night, Scott drank until he couldn’t see and cried until he couldn’t breathe, grief finally breaking through the nothingness in his chest. He sobbed until there was nothing left, the last of his hope finally gone. The still night was only broken by a single muffled shot that went unnoticed. In the morning, he cleaned up and went back to work.

Never again.

 

 

The sheets were smooth, and beneath him, his pillow soft. It was easy to let himself drift, slowly opening to the exhaustion that dogged his heels, and had been for the past century. Scott could afford comforts in life. If he tried hard enough, he could afford more than most people dreamed of, but he rarely indulged himself on things that felt like a secondary importance. He was closer now than ever before to reaching his goal, but there were gentle fingers in his hair and an arm around his waist.

“You awake?” Stiles whispered, as his fingers dragged across Scott’s scalp. “Dozed off for a second there. I still don’t think you’re getting enough sleep.”

“I’m awake,” Scott grumbled, making a move to sit up. Stiles put a stop to that quickly.

“No you’re not. You’re the opposite of awake. You’re a _sleep.”_

Scott snorted, because he didn’t have a drum beat to give, but that was okay. He really hadn’t wanted to move anyway. 

“I meant it though. You don’t get enough sleep.”

_I’ll sleep when I’m dead,_ was cruel. If Scott was honest with himself, he was excited for that prospect. It was twisted and horrible, but he was looking forward to it, the chance to sleep for a very long time. Instead, he said, “Coming from you, that’s rich.”

“Yeah, but I don’t look like I was punched in the eye twice.” Scott felt the rumble in Stiles’s chest as he laughed. It was difficult not to lean in a little closer. “Besides, I was built for this sort of thing. Haven’t you heard? Being an insomniac is a prerequisite for detective work.”

“Sure thing, officer.”

“Asshole.”

“Right-o, Officer Asshole.”

Scott’s eyes were closed, but there was a shy little smile across his lips that Stiles ached to trace. It was a waiting game, and they were their own bait. It was a risky ploy. The police had retraced the victims’ steps to the park, but with nothing but speculation to tie the suspects together, it was just another piece in an overwhelmingly complex puzzle. They knew enough to know that it was Theo’s hunting grounds, where the immortal started his process of selection. How could someone tell if affection was sincere enough, or desperate enough to qualify for his experiments? The detective didn’t have answers, and neither did Scott, but they were both willing to bet Theo’s pride would force him to step in.

Then it would all be over.

“Hey…” Stiles started, but his companion only grunted, leaning into his touch. “You could stay here, you know. Once we’re done.”

“We had a deal, Stiles. We finish this and you don’t ever see me again.” How many times did he have to lose someone before the lesson finally sank in? They said madness was doing the same thing over and over and hoping for a different outcome. Scott was intimately acquainted with madness over the years. No one could live this long and keep from breaking.

The bed dipped as Stiles shifted to his side, propping his head up with his hand. “Yeah, but that was before.” _Before I spent an entire week at your apartment. Before I knew you could eat three burritos in a sitting. Before I made you laugh so hard at a fart joke that I gave you the hiccups. Before I noticed how sad you always were and how you try to pretend that you’re not. Before you fell asleep on my shoulder and before I couldn’t stop dreaming of what it would feel like if you touched me._

“I made a promise, I can’t do this anymore.” Scott kept his eyes closed, there was too much in Stiles’s expression that he couldn’t face. “I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever known. Everyone but Theo and he’s the one person I wish I could lose. You don’t know what it’s like to let someone in and know that they’re going to leave you in the end and you just have to…stay behind. I’ve watched yo-” He stopped and tried again. “I’ve watched people I love die over and over, I don’t have anything left to give.”

“What if I wooed you with bad pickup lines and puns?”

Scott cracked his eyes open, a faint smile playing over his lips. “You think I’m that easy?”

“I think I at least deserve a chance. You barely even know me, dude. I could say I’d like to know you better? Intimately.” He teased.

The ancient young man choked, overcome by an aching of nostalgia before rolling into Stiles’s side with a muffled laugh. “Does that line ever work on anyone?” He said, hearing the words echo through his memories.

“You tell me.”

“We’re just playing a part, you can’t forget that.” Scott said, more for himself than for man beside him. He was so close, only a heartbeat away and so easy to just set aside all his pledges and lessons learned. Making mistakes always ended badly, but they felt so good at the beginning. “This is all for his benefit. We have to make it look real.”

It was a slow and inevitable fall, a sort of gravity that pulled him down no matter how he could resist. It was a force of nature, or maybe it was just Stiles’s stupid hot face or the way he so effortlessly slipped back beside Scott like he’d been there all along. Stiles broke in uninvited, ignored all the warnings and made himself at home in Scott’s life before he even realized he left the door open. Scott was just so tired. He closed the distance, brushing his lips against Stiles’s, teasing them apart to catch the detective’s breath. Sweet and gentle, pliant and just the hint of restrained hunger.

“Making it look real?” Stiles murmured, words stolen right off his tongue. “Is that what we’re doing?”

“Shut up.”

It would be so easy. Stiles made it so easy, but they might not have eighty years, or eight. They might not have any longer than the time it took to get out of bed. Scott knew exactly what would happen. He remembered his best friend’s lifeless body, his blood on his hands. He remembered waiting in a quiet, dingy back room. He remembered never getting the chance to say goodbye. There were thousands of moments in between, and Scott was so tired. Stiles just wouldn’t let him pull away.

“Hey… Hey. Scott.” Stiles was so careful, Scott wanted to laugh. He rested their foreheads together, and Scott wished he didn’t know how good this could feel. “All we’ve gotta do is try.”

Maybe that was asking too much.

Stiles’s phone rang, sharp and shrill, and they both jolted away, nearly knocking each other out. Flustered hands went to aching foreheads, and they groaned in unison, rolling away from each other.

“What?!” The detective snapped into his phone, and was promptly chewed out for it by his partner. Scott watched with affection he couldn’t mask as the other man turned away, his expressive face pinched with annoyance and quiet consideration. They could try again, maybe. If they made it through the night.

“That was Malia,” Stiles said after a beat, exhaling deeply. “There’s something down at the station I gotta take care of. It shouldn’t take long.”

Scott yawned like he was trying to dislocate his jaw, flipping over and tucking his arm under his head. “ _Good._  If you gotta go, you gotta go. More space for me.”

“You need all the space you can get for that ass. Oh wait, that’s just your face.” Stiles teased and thumped his pillow down on Scott’s head.

The immortal grunted and waved his hands at the other man to shoo him away. “Go do your job, Officer.”

“That’s Detective!”

He peeked out from under his arm long enough to flash an unrepentant grin before rolling his back on the cop. Stiles sighed and gathered his things, scrawling a lewd note on a small scrap of paper and slipping it beneath his friend’s pillow. He closed the apartment door as quietly as possible to let Scott keep whatever few moments of rest he could. Peace was a lot shorter than either of them expected. The lock clicked almost silently, door swinging open as the figure stepped into Stiles’s home with an appraising frown. Small and messy, just like its owner. Nothing really a surprise, Theo never did expect much from him.

Theo carefully picked his way through the tiny living room and hovered in the open doorway to the bedroom, watching the man curled on the bed. Scott was beautiful in his sleep, vulnerable and unguarded even after so many years. He loved to wake up before his king and watch the gentle way his chest rose and fell as Scott curled against his warmth. With a dark smile, he sat on the edge of the bed and brushed his fingertips through the other man’s dark bangs. What he wouldn’t give to fuck Scott right in his knight’s bed, make him beg and plead for another man twisted in Stiles’s very sheets. It would be a fitting punishment, worth coming to this little apartment instead of luring his sweet boy to him.

“Wake up, Scott.”

“Nng?” Scott protested, turning away from the touch before reluctantly opening his eyes. “Ssstiles?”

“Guess again, Husband.”

The shift was instantaneous. Scott pushed himself off the bed, lunging at Theo. The other immortal laughed, poised to strike. He used Scott’s momentum against him, sidestepping his attack, and shoving Scott into a shelf. Scott scrambled, taking down the detective’s collection with him, but he reached for a lamp, swinging its heavy base like he had a club all those years ago. Theo parried, backing away as he let Scott charge, waiting for an opening. A sharp jab caught Scott in the knee, knocking him off balance. He rolled away just in time to avoid Theo’s hit.

“You’re getting soft, Scott.” Theo laughed. He watched Scott push himself to his feet, trembling with cold fury. “Or does your knight make you that weak?”

Scott backed away slowly, eyes darting to his left and right as he searched for a weapon. Stiles’s apartment was painfully open, nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Every step he took, Theo matched, rounding on his husband like a hungry predator, each movement a calculated threat.

“You sick asshole. This is all your fault. What do you get out of this? I’ll never join you.”

“Oh Scott… We both know that’s not true.” Theo’s smile was a ghoulish, vicious thing that transformed his handsome face into the monster he’d become. Scott took great pleasure it watching it melt off.

Theo gasped, energy sparking across his skin as he walked into an unseen barrier, confusing and rage warring across his face. Scott stance straightened, the panic flickering off his face like it had never been there to begin with.

“You’re not the only one who picked up new tricks.”

Theo was murderous, teeth bared like he could spit venom, frozen in place like a statue.

“Look real enough?” Behind Scott, emerging from the shadows as he dusted his hands clean of black powder that left his palms tingling, Stiles laughed. “Nice try motherfucker.”

Scott didn’t smile as he pulled the stolen silver dagger where he’d hidden it beside the bed, only relieved that for once, they’d managed to spring their trap first. He twirled it around his fingers, practice making the weapon all too familiar in his grip.

“Really, Scott? You actually kept that old thing? You’re a little behind the times.” It happened so quickly. Theo moved like a blur as he pulled the gun from his jacket, and two muffled shots echoed through the air. Stiles gagged, his hands on his waist, dark blood spilling through his fingers as horror dawned across Scott’s face. Theo sneered.

“I upgraded.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Dans's awesome fics [here](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can read Rune's stuff [Here](http://fightingforthepack.tumblr.com/) and find her on tumblr at [ Runicscribbles](http://runicscribbles.tumblr.com)


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